


Percy Jackson of the Opera - A Phantom of the Opera/Percy Jackson crossover

by percysbluepizza



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber, The Lightning Thief - Rokicki/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ballerina Annabeth, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Percy Jackson AU, Phantom of the Opera AU, Singer Annabeth, this fic came to me like a fever dream in the night
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2020-11-27 11:18:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20947469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/percysbluepizza/pseuds/percysbluepizza
Summary: Percy Jackson characters from the original Percy Jackson and the Olympians series inserted into the Phantom of the Opera. But with a twist of its own. And unfortunately, no singing.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is the first big fic I've ever written, aside from something I wrote shittily on my friend's AO3 account years and years ago. I know what you're thinking, Percy Jackson and Phantom of the Opera in one piece? But I've really been thinking about the parallels between the two, and I loved the idea. Currently, the plan is eighteen chapters altogether, each named after a song title off of the original cast's soundtrack. I will try and update about once a week to once every two weeks, depending on my school schedule and what I can manage to work on outside of the weekends. If anyone would like to beta, that would be great! Send me a message on tumblr and tell me what you think! Also, this first chapter is a lot shorter because it's just the prologue, there will be more to come.

"Sold. Thank you for your purchase, and your number was? Yes, it has been documented. Moving right along, lot number 6-6-5, ladies and gentlemen, a music box containing a dancing couple, still in great condition." The auctioneer opens the box and Percy leans forward in his chair encapsulated by the memory it brings. A soft song rings out in the quiet auditorium, one that fills his heart with a yearning for a time long gone. The box closes and the moment passes far too quickly for his liking. Bidding starts and it's all he can do to keep himself from overpaying for such a sentimental item. Lucky for him, many are unaware of the past riddled with secrets and beauty that this box saw. 

"Thank you, Mr. Jackson." An attendant brings him the box, now worn and delicate from its years in the basement. He opens the box tenderly and the porcelain figurines with painted, dainty faces spin together in a circle, an eternal dance. Silk lining is now pilled and peeling along the edges, but the sight of it takes his breath away nonetheless. Although there is nothing left inside, he feels overwhelmed. He remembers fondly the dance he and the love of his life shared at the party on Olympus. Now, he sits and enjoys what he remembers of the evening. 

All too focused on his prize and on moments from his past, Percy tunes out the auctioneer while he finishes with the paperwork from his sale. Little did the man know, an item cloaked in fear with a twisted past would also be up for auction. Whether a year or a minute passes, he has no clue, but he lifts his head and sees the newest item up for auction. What he lays eyes upon makes his stomach turn with dread. 

"Item 6-6-6. A chandelier that fell during an accident years ago in this very building Some will claim is still cursed, although, we can assure you it is up to standard. It is now restored to its former glory and primed for the newest technology, perfect for your modern life. We present this magnificent light for all you to see. My attendants and I will prove to you not only it’s beauty but the emotions it can stir within you, dear buyers.” During the pause in which the team worked to set up the light, Percy’s heart rate increased. A beat passed, then entire building and the few buyers within were suddenly illuminated by a blazing white light.


	2. Overture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Official start of the story, welcome to the theater, my loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a little logistical stuff. I’m gonna be writing everything from now on in past tense. The first chapter happens in the present! It’s the most recent event to happen in the story, but now we’re going ~back in the timeline~ to when things first began. Big thanks to EmptyStomach on AO3, you’re the reason I’m continuing this, your comment made my entire existence.

Annabeth did her best to take what life gave to her. After all of the difficulties she experienced, she found simply trying to be the method. And so here she was, in the theatre she grew up in, being coaxed to sing for the lead in front of her peers and two men she just met. If only her mother could see her now…

+

Athena often told her that music ran in their family. The sweet voice of her violin beautifully rang throughout their cabin by the sea, crashing like the ocean waves with crescendos of grace and gaiety. Annabeth’s fondest memories resided in that cabin, as the salted wind blew through her unruly blonde curls.

At the young age of seven, Annabeth knew she loved music. She would hum along to the melodies that her mother conjured up on their back porch. On nights when the thunderstorms on the beach would rouse her from her sleep, she would pad to her mother’s room. Her mother’s love wasn’t something that Annabeth saw often, but as the sound of her violin lulled her back into a dreamless sleep, she knew that she was cared for. On days where her mother came back late from the city, Annabeth stayed awake, waiting. Despite her tiredness, her mother would tell her stories of all the musicians she’d met. Of singers and pianists, of dancers and of an angel.

“An angel of music, my darling. One day, you too will meet him. There’s an angel, and he’ll guide your way. You’re a wonderful singer, and soon, the angel will be there to protect you, to be your guardian. But for now, you must wait. And go to sleep, little one, it’s far too late for you to be awake.” Athena tucked her in and Annabeth dreamed of singing to an angel. An angel that was not only pleased with her, but wanted to hear more.

That summer, Annabeth met a boy. Percy Jackson moved into the home closest her cabin. He played on the beach (her beach, she claimed) often enough that Annabeth took notice of him. His black hair that stood up, unruly, in all directions. His green eyes shone like the sea, and his laugh made butterflies flutter in her stomach for the first time in her life.

The first impression she made wasn’t the greatest.

“Did you just get out of the water? You’ve got kelp in your hair.” Annabeth stated petulantly, hands on her hips. Percy did his best to locate the offender and get it out of his hair himself, but a particularly stubborn piece remained intertwined in the inky locks. He frowned as Annabeth continued to look at him with scrutiny.

“Gods, let me help you, Seaweed Brain.” She leaned over and picked the piece out, something which made him blush inexplicably. The two of them were inseparable for the rest of the summer, with Annabeth spending entire days at his house with Sally and Poseidon. Her friendship with him grew into something more, a mutual crush, but then her life took a turn for the worst. Percy Jackson became one of the only bright spots in her childhood.

A man in a suit showed up on the front porch of their little home by the sea. Annabeth wasn’t supposed to be listening in, but there she stood, back to the wall, ear pressed up against the door. Hushed voices spoke from the other side, one that she identified as her mother, but distraught, upset, something she’d never heard. The other, the gruff voice belonging to the man she met at the door. His statements were clear, direct; they didn’t allow for argument. She rushed back to her own room once the sliding of chairs was heard. Two days later, all of little Annabeth’s possessions were packed in a suitcase.

The rest of that year Annabeth spent sleeping on sidewalks throughout the city, singing accompanied by her mother’s violin. They made enough money for their meals for awhile, but her mother got sick and Annabeth felt helpless. One day, her mother walked her to a theater in one of the nicest parts of town. Annabeth looked up at her now frail features and was met with a loving, yet sad look on her face. Her cold hand let go of Annabeth’s, the other urging her forward toward the opera house. Annabeth remembered turning back around to face her, eyes watery.

“I won’t be around much longer, my darling. I’m afraid my sickness has gotten the best of me.” Annabeth knew her mother was right, but it didn’t stop the tears that flowed down her red cheeks. Athena hadn’t been able to play violin for months, her bony fingers unable to draw the beautiful sounds from it. The money Annabeth was able to bring in on her own hardly bought them enough food to live off of. And from the rasp in her mother’s voice, the cold night air of winter weighed on her condition. Annabeth took her mother’s hand in hers once more, then turned back toward the Palais Garnier. With a squeeze of her hand and a wave goodbye, her mother left.

A year passed until Annabeth found out she was officially orphaned. Left on her own in the ballet dorms, she fell into her craft, working tirelessly. The girl she shared her room with, Thalia Grace, was the adopted daughter of the stage director, Chiron. A master of ballet, Chiron saw the potential Annabeth had and focused his attention onto her and his daughter. Annabeth did her best at every practice and every performance, waiting for her moment to shine in front of a crowd herself, but never voicing her true desires. She wanted to make her mother proud.

Late one evening while trying to tame her curls she sang to herself. A voice, not hers, echoed in her room. The gentleness made Annabeth assume it was in her head. She stopped what toying with her hair the second time she heard the voice. This time, it sang to _her_. Quiet promises of a better life, of her dreams coming true.

“Angel of Music?” She questioned as she stood from her place in front of the mirror. Annabeth previously told Thalia of the story. Of course, Thalia wanted to believe her, but she claimed that the idea of an angel to watch over her was too unlikely. Thalia’s words echoed in her head as she heard the voice again, but clearer and louder.

“I am the angel you speak of.”

She disregarded Thalia's advice. After that night, Annabeth trained with the Angel of Music, her Angel, in secret, behind the doors of her room and through the grate against her wall. He never told her his name, never asked her for more than her voice. And so she gave it freely to him. Night after night, she practiced, her range and confidence growing, but unable to tell anyone. Little did she know, Chiron had heard her singing to someone one night when he was passing through the dormitories.

+

Annabeth ran down the steps of the stage as she heard the opening score being played. Getting ready took her much longer than usual today, most likely because of the ridiculously strappy costume that hardly covered any of her skin. She chalked the tips of her pointe shoes and the bottoms, ensuring she wouldn’t slip and make a fool of herself on stage. She made it to her place just as the ensemble was to move, falling into step behind Thalia easily. As she leapt into her floorwork, she noticed two new men walking around with Chiron. She spun gracefully and did her best to listen in on the conversation.

“This is Annabeth Chase, one of the most promising students in our ballet dormitories.” Chiron stated as he pointed his cane her way. His voice was the easiest to pick out from above the music, but Annabeth assumed she only heard him after years and years of listening for his corrections.

“Chase, is she the daughter of the late violinist?” One of the men asked. His striking blond hair was slicked back into a style Annabeth had seen only the highest in society wearing. The other man observed her with a neutral expression across his features. It was time for her to move to her next position, but she heard Chiron agreeing. As she awaited the next cue, Hera sauntered onstage.

“No! No, I refuse to be working with him! Someone as beautiful as I should not have to be dealing with people such as he. Hephestus hardly has the vocal range, let alone the looks to perform here!” The music cut off and all the dancers spread out to either side of the stage, eager to see how the two new men would react to another one of Hera’s breakdowns. Annabeth stood next to Thalia, who crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head.

“Poor guys. They haven't a clue what they signed up for.” Thalia stated, eyes darting from the two men to Hera and back again. Annabeth’s brow furrowed. Thalia noticed her confusion and turned to elaborate.

“Those are the new stage owners. The younger man is Apollo, the other is Dionysus.” Annabeth examined the two of them again, but this time, with a more critical eye. They seemed to have wealth, both of them dressed in what Annabeth could only assume were the finest of suits. They did their best to calm down the diva, practically grovelling at her feet. It didn’t seem to be working as well as they wanted it to, until another man sauntered in. A man with dark hair and dazzling green eyes that Annabeth recognized instantly.

“That’s Percy Jackson.” She murmured as she turned to Thalia with wide eyes. Thalia looked over the man, dressed up in a suit, his hair ruffled in the most perfect of ways. Annabeth’s heart was pounding against her ribcage. The old feelings she had for him returned and crashed over her like an ocean wave. “You remember when I told you about him? The Seaweed Brain.” Annabeth suppressed a smile as he introduced himself to a now-calm Hera.

“He moved in next to my mother and I when we still lived in the cabin by the sea. He called me Wise Girl because I read books and could read sheet music. We spent the entire summer together. I suppose you could say we were childhood sweethearts.” She watched as Percy made his introductions and promised to show for their opening before saying his goodbyes. He brushed past the group of ballerinas with a nod of acknowledgement. Her heart sank as he walked out of the theater.

“It’s been so long. It would make sense that he wouldn’t remember me.” She stated as her fingers toyed with the hem of her costume. There was little time for her to fret over the interaction (or lack thereof) because they were being called to rehearse once again. She went to her mark and stood in third position, ready. The aria for ‘Think of Me’ began playing which drew a heavy sigh from Hera’s audience. Of course she would want to show off for the new stage owners now that they had begged for her to stay. Annabeth stepped back from her position; this was a solo piece and needed no background dancers. The diva began singing and the women preparing the auditorium for the evening plugged their ears. Annabeth tried her best not to grimiace.

In the blink of an eye, one of the backdrops for the musical fell and knocked Hera to her knees. Annabeth jumped back in alarm as the people closest to Hera rushed to her side and lifted the heavy cloth off of her. Thalia leaned over to Annabeth. “It’s him. It’s the Phantom.” She whispered, mesmerized by the sight. “He hates her singing.” Thalia luckily suppressed her laugh before yelling surged through the auditorium.

“That’s it! No more. I will no longer perform here! Goodbye!” Hera exclaimed full of anger.

“Please Miss, it’s the night of the show and these things do happen….” The blond, Apollo stated as he tried to catch her attention with a bright apologetic smile. She simply turned her back to him and trotted off, her heels clicking as she walked down the stairs and out of the theater. Apollo looked to Dionysus for help, but the other man shrugged, seemingly uninterested.

“There’s always an understudy. Women like her who own the spotlight tend to get flighty, so they have replacements.” He turned to the conductor, who sighed in exasperation.

“There is no understudy for her part! Not every soprano has the range like Hera does.” He worried his hands, the stress of the event cleary catching up to him. “What are we to do? The performance is this evening!”

“We can’t refund these tickets, we’re set to have a full house. And then there’s the fact that we’re having the esteemed Mr. Jackson take up one of the best booths, there’s no way--” Dionysus began, but soon found himself cut off.

“Miss Chase can sing the part. She’s been training with a wonderful tutor.” Chiron stated and beckoned Annabeth out of the comfort of the ensemble into the spotlight of the stage. Annabeth glanced to Chiron, who gave her a knowing smile. He knew. She swallowed hard and then looked down at her pointe shoes. They were much more interesting than meeting the scrutinizing gaze of Apollo and Dionysus.

“A chorus girl? Why, this is absurd and doing nothing to help my nerves!” Apollo exclaimed. Annabeth shrunk further into herself and did her best to ignore the gazes of her peers.

“From the aria, if you will?” The conductor nodded his head and began to play the introduction to the song. Meekly, she began. As she sang, her confidence grew until the peak of the piece. At one point, she risked a glance toward Chiron, who simply nodded in encouragement with the music. Once she finished, she found the Apollo and Dionysus staring at her in awe.

“Congratulations Miss Chase, you will be playing the lead tonight. We’ll expect you on stage in an hour to run the final rehearsal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wanted to pay homage to both the Seaweed Brain and Wise Girl nicknames, as well as Annabeth's brief stint as a little one being on the streets with Luke and Thalia. I'm not completely proud of how this chapter went, but I'm committed to this idea and honestly? It's been years since I've written over 2000 words in one evening. So... yeah. Thanks for reading to the few who do! More to come.


	3. Think of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth Chase makes her debut at the opera house as our lead soprano!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically I have a midterm tomorrow? (This was at the day of writing this, the midterm went okay! Thanks for being patient guys!) But Christine Daae really just got me tonight and so now here we are. Thanks again for all of the love! The comments on my last chapter almost made me want to cry out of happiness. I’m glad so many of you are enjoying this.

The rest of the night passed in a whirlwind. Auditioning for the part was the easiest thing. Fitting into the prim white dress provided to her from Hera’s dressing room proved to be much more difficult. She and the stagehand sat together inside of the overly pink dressing room as Thalia leaned against the vanity. Her messy hair now tamed on the back of her head in a large braid, done with care by the nimble fingers of her best friend. Heavy stage makeup was applied next, rosying her cheeks and lengthening her lashes. The next time she looked into the mirror, she almost didn’t recognize herself. The doll-like appearance of the character overtook any of Annabeth’s features, at least in her own eyes. As the stagehand busied herself with the details of Annabeth’s costume, Thalia met her gaze. The ballerina leaned down, put an arm around her shoulders, and made eye contact with her in the mirror. A similar thing happened during their first performance together, with little Annabeth scared of the huge crowd and her eyes watery from the mascara. At least, that’s what she’d claimed then. Thalia was there too, comforting her like she was now. 

“You look beautiful, ‘Beth, don’t worry. They’re going to love you.” She reassured. Thalia placed a soft kiss to the top of Annabeth’s head, and with that, all the worry melted from her shoulders. She looked up at Thalia as she stood. “I need to go warm up with the rest of the ensemble. Chrion’s probably waiting. I guess you have your own cues tonight, huh?” She smiled and then squeezed Annabeth tightly once more before leaving. 

After a soft ‘thank you’ to the woman who helped her into the gown, the room was empty. She had around ten minutes, according to the grandfather clock, until the final rehearsal. Annabeth chanced another look into the mirror with a soft sigh. Realization washed over her all at once; she looked like her mother before a performance. The hair and the makeup looked much like this, simplistic, yet effective. A pang of sadness filled her heart, just for a moment, as she wished her mother could see her now. 

In that pink dressing room, Annabeth decided to perform for her mother. “For you, Athena, since you can’t be here with me, I dedicate this song.” She stated softly into the room. The silence stole her words soon after they were spoken, and she stood, wanting to leave the cushy, empty room and the somber memories behind. 

The rest of the practice was uneventful, with no backdrops knocking Annabeth to her knees or any mysterious omens from the Opera Ghost. Apollo and Dionysus watched relatively happily, although Annabeth did miss her cue twice during rehearsal. The whole thing ran smoothly overall and her nervousness had subsided by showtime. At least it did, until she saw the huge crowd awaiting her outside of the curtain. She turned back to Thalia. 

“I-I can’t do this. Why did they choose me? Thalia, there’s too many people out there, they were serious when they said a full house. I won’t be able to sing and-” Her breaths left her unevenly, which only worsened her panic. Of course, Thalia knew how to calm her. She took Annabeth’s hands in her own and met her eyes, stunning blue piercing stone grey.

“Hey. Listen to me. You’ve performed in front of a full house before. Remember that ballet when you were twelve, where you fell during that leap?” Annabeth nodded as she thought back on how frustrating that night was. Thalia smiled up at her. “You got through the rest of that performance on a bad ankle. That’s a very difficult thing to do, especially at twelve. No matter what happens here, you’re going to finish this out and you’ll do it well, just like you did back then. I’m so proud of you already, I can’t wait to hear you sing again. It’s like magic.” Annabeth hugged her tightly, just for a moment before she gave Thalia’s hand a little squeeze. There seemed to be no proper way to share her gratitude for her best friend 

“Thank you. You always know just what to say.” Annabeth hoped that sufficed. Another glance back toward the curtain, which caused Thalia to shake her head. She pinched Annabeth’s arm, who responded with a glare. She rubbed her hand over her arm in an attempt to sooth the pain. “Why’d you do that?” 

“So you know you’re not dreaming. And to keep you focused on the present. Don’t worry about them, just be you. Wonderful and magical Annabeth Chase.” Thalia gave her another genuine smile before she gracefully moved to her first spot, amongst the ballerinas. 

The beginning of the show flowed beautifully and soon, her big solo piece came. Annabeth confidently strutted onto the stage, flowing dress following her as she took her place. The spotlights were blinding once the curtain raised, something Annabeth hated as a ballerina but now appreciated as the stand-in primadonna. Another thing she now felt immensely grateful was how loud the orchestra was. It sounded balanced to the audience, but hearing it there in front of her provided her with the support she needed to make it through the song. 

As the lights dimmed and the curtain fell, Annabeth’s pride grew. The audience loved her, as Thalia predicted, and now, she could hardly wait until the end of the show to reconvene with her friend. Although, she knew that their time was limited. The Angel would have heard her, somehow, as he always did. She hoped that he was pleased with her singing, enough so that he might let her have the night to herself to celebrate with her friends. But the Angel did not always approve of leisure time, nor of time spent with others. 

\+ 

Percy headed inside of the opera house, escorted by Apollo at his right hand and Dionysus at his left. He never cared much for the political game, but considering how far up in society his father now was, his instructions were to play nice with the new owners. They chatted with him about their newest discovery, a chorus girl to take over the part of Hera, the soprano he had met earlier in the day. Their excitement overflowed into him as he looked for the newest star of the musical. 

The show seemed to drag on, with musical number after musical number being performed, ballerinas dancing merrily across the stage, and set changes. Nothing noteworthy happened until the most beautiful woman he had ever seen stepped forward. Her stormy eyes sparkled under the lights of the stage and her blonde curls shone. Then, she opened her mouth and began to sing; Percy instantly recognized her. Annabeth Chase, his Wise Girl. He leaned forward in his seat, entranced by the sound of her voice. 

The song was new to him, but the voice pulled him back to his past. A childhood by the sea, grey eyes meeting green, like the ocean at dusk. Her laughter and singing woke him some mornings in the summertime, when he slept in late. At the time, he thought of her as his own. They spent every waking moment together for that time, and he wouldn’t have dreamed of a life without her. 

She left so suddenly, Percy never said goodbye. She was just a memory for so long, but now, seeing her take the stage on her own, he was filled with an immense sense of longing and pride. Annabeth, beautiful, smart, kind, talented, Annabeth stood there in front of the packed opera house. He held his breath as she reached the crescendo of the piece, amazed by how much her talent had grown since the last time he saw her. 

Percy cheered wildly and stood when Annabeth finished her piece. Her voice played over and over again in his mind as the scene shifted to finish off the show. He bought flowers earlier that afternoon. At the time, he assumed they were for the primadonna, who would likely exile him if he didn’t bring her something. But now the thought of giving the roses to Annabeth was the sweetest end to the evening. 

A sense of worry made him rethink his decision feelings. He hoped that his Wise Girl remembered him like he remembered her. The idea of her forgetting him… well, it would be heartbreaking. He pushed the feeling aside as he waited for the end of the show, re-energized and looking forward to the moment he could reunite with his former childhood sweetheart.


	4. Angel of Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We return to our lovely heroine after her performance, reminiscing upon the past and fearing for her future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been looking forward to writing all week long. Thanks again for all the love, friends, it makes me really happy to see people are enjoying this story! I didn’t think anyone would read this when I first started writing and as of today I have 138 hits! Thank you so so much to all who read!

After her final bow, Annabeth’s sense of joy was overridden by longing. A desire to talk to her mother and see her filled with pride over Annabeth’s performance wedged itself into her heart. The sound of the violin submerged her further into this mindset. She brushed past a few stagehands, who complimented her on her voice. After every one, she gave a polite nod, not trusting herself to speak as her emotions crescendoed. 

Finally alone down in the chapel below the stage, Annabeth breathed in the solitude. Although she enjoyed partaking in the spotlight, the moments to herself allowed her to regain control of her thoughts once again. She looked around for a few moments before she was able to find the matches that were kept on top of one of the benches. A swift strike against the wall and the room brightened around her. One by one she lit the candelabra. Annabeth kneeled next to it, the cold of the stone seeping into her stockinged knees. To the right of her there sat a shelf that held photos of family and friends who had passed of those who lived in the theater. She reached out and picked up the framed photo of her mother, one of the only photos that Annabeth had of her. 

This specific photo remained imprinted in her mind after years of looking at it. Each and every detail, from her mother’s flowing hair to the perfectly poised expression across her features. Her thumb brushed over her mother’s cheekbone, a mirror of what her mother used to do when she was young. She knew better than to linger on memories. But one last thought of what her life used to be like wouldn’t hurt.

“Brava, brava, bravisima. Beautiful, my darling Angel.” The voice of the Angel startled her out of her thoughts. She cradled the photo defensively against her chest as she searched for a sign of the speaker. The voice echoed against the walls, something hauntingly familiar. She knew the Angel would desire to speak with her, to have another practice, but so soon?

She heard her name once again, but this time from a voice she recognized instantly and loved dearly. Her spirits brightened slightly, until the Angel echoed Thalia. Annabeth’s mixed feelings consumed her until her friend descended into view. She offered the black-haired girl a grateful smile in an attempt to cover for her previous fear. Thalia kneeled next to her as Annabeth set the photo of her mother back on the ledge, an action that did not go unnoticed. Thalia took Annabeth’s hands in her own, a gentle way of getting her attention  
“Where have you been? Me and the others have been looking all over for you. Quite the disappearing act, if I dare say.” She paused, thumb rubbing absently over Annabeth’s fingers. “You were amazing, and they loved you, as I predicted. I wish I knew your secret, who this tutor is that you speak of. They deserve congratulations as well.” Thalia’s eyes met hers, the bright blue filled with curiosity. 

Annabeth broke the contact and looked back to the candles. The flicker of the flames centered her as she searched for the words to explain the complexity of the Angel. She sighed and then looked down at her hands, folded in her lap on top of the pure white tulle. Her nails were well manicured for now, until she decided to start nervously picking at them out of habit. She brushed a loose curl behind her ear and then turned to meet Thalia’s expectant gaze. 

“You remember when I mentioned the story of the Angel, yes? The one my mother sent me.” At Thalia’s nod of reassurance, she continued, confidence and excitement growing as she gained momentum. “The angel, he’s real. Sent from my mother to protect me.” 

Thalia blinked in surprise and then shook her head. “Annabeth, that was only a story. Those types of things don’t come true. Even if your mother did send someone from beyond the grave to protect you, wouldn’t she come herself?” Thalia questioned as she bit her lip. 

“I… The Angel, he’s been with me all my life here, for as long as I can remember. When I would come down here when I was young, to pray for my mother after her death, he would speak to me. He would appear, and promised to care for me as I grew up. He’s real, Thalia. I know it. He calls to me. Before you came, I heard him.” Annabeth explained, sincere. She knew why her friend looked at her in confusion, but it didn’t negate the realness of the Angel. He existed, and he was sent for her from Athena. That, Annabeth was sure of. 

Thalia stood and offered Annabeth a hand, helping her up and then leading her out of the chapel. They began walking back toward the dressing rooms and the ballet dorms, away from where she last heard the voice. Silence hung in the air for a few moments as they walked together. 

“‘Beth, I know you think this is real-” Thalia started after a few moments, careful in her approach.

“But it is real! I know he’s here. He’s called my name, he hears me when I sing. I know it.” Annabeth insisted. 

“This isn’t like you Annabeth… I’ve never heard you speak like this.“ Thalia worried her lip as they continued. She twined her arm through Annabeth’s to better guide her.   
“He’s with me, even now…” Annabeth’s face paled as she glanced around the room. 

“Are you okay?” The ballerina took one of Annabeth’s hands in her own. “Oh, your hands, they’re freezing.” 

“It frightens me.” Annabeth admitted and stopped. Thalia took her friend’s face in her hand, seeing the fear written clearly there. She sighed, eyebrows furrowed in worry before putting an arm around her waist and guiding her back toward the dressing rooms. 

“Don’t be frightened. I’m here with you. Let’s get you back with everyone. Chiron’s waiting to congratulate you, along with the rest of the cast. And… We’ll keep an eye out for this Angel. I don’t want you to be scared.” Thalia reassured her. The remainder of the walk back to the hideously pink dressing room passed in silence.

The fear that filled Annabeth’s body dissipated and was replaced with the joy and excitement that surrounded her from the cast. Backstage, performers were buzzing about the full house and how smoothly the performance went. She allowed herself to be swept up in all of the cheerful emotions. The dread that riddled her previously was no longer. Thalia seemed grateful for the distraction as she opened up the door to the primadonna’s dressing room for Annabeth and ushered her inside. 

The walls, much to Annabeth’s delight and surprise, were covered in flowers, floor to ceiling. Chiron smiled and motioned for her to sit at the vanity, where she had been mere hours ago. Thalia waved goodbye and disappeared out of sight, leaving Annabeth alone with the ballet master. 

“You were splendid, Annabeth. There have been many sending their love and congratulations, as you can see.” Chiron turned around the room and took in the wide array of bouquets and flowers. Annabeth smiled as she looked at them, but the smile faded as she found a single red rose, tied with a black ribbon at the stem. Instantly, she knew it was from the Angel. More evidence of his presence. 

"I’m sure he’s very proud of your performance.” Chiron commented. Annabeth whipped around to look at Chiron, who simply nodded. “He’s certainly played a part in your vocal training.” He paused and looked as if he was going to say something more, but appeared to decide against it. “I’ll leave you be. I’m sure there are others out there that would love to see you.” He commented before leaving the dressing room. Annabeth set the rose down amongst the other bouquets. She slipped out of her costume, left in the flowing undergarment worn underneath the clothing.

Delicately, she began to release her curls from the confines of the braid, careful not to pull too hard at her hair. A knock at the door took her out of her thoughts, and she looked in the mirror to see the door open to reveal someone she’d been dreaming of ever since she left home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger! Unless you know the plot. Then you know who that is.


	5. The Mirror/Little Lotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who was the man walking into her room? Whose voice is that echoing in Annabeth's head? Answers soon to come.

Annabeth’s eyes met all too familiar sea green. A bouquet of flowers far grander than the rest practically overflowed out of Percy’s hands. A smile spread across her features as she turned to face him, forgetting any doubts from earlier in the day. He had sought her out, meaning he not only wanted to see her, but he remembered her. He smiled at her in return, a mischievous grin she could recognize anywhere. 

“My Wise Girl. Let her mind wander…” Percy began. Annabeth’s heart did a flip in her chest. He had started the rhyme they had made as kids about her insatiable curiosity and need for knowledge. It began as a way to tease her, but after all these years, it sounded fond and loving. She put her face in her hand, resting her elbow against her knee and watching him walk in. Annabeth shook her head in mock annoyance. 

“Am I fonder of books, or monsters, or of the sea? She would think...” Percy continued as he placed the flowers down next to the singular rose. He kneeled down in front of her, and his eyes met hers. Seeing him up close made her realize that he had grown all the more handsome over the years. Her first love, here once more. The temptation to ruffle his already unruly hair was high, but she refrained, deciding instead to continue the rhyme. 

“Of riddles or puzzles…” She obliged. Thinking about her childhood and how much time she and Percy spent together felt overwhelmingly nostalgic, a feeling she craved but rarely got. 

“Those picnics in the attic. You remember?” He grinned at her, his fingers dancing atop her other knee. “We’d sit there all day and watch the rain outside while your mother practiced her violin. You’d read all of those dark myths, the ones full of creatures.” Percy’s expression was full of a familiar sort of light that she didn’t know she had missed. 

“You’d claim that you weren’t afraid, but would be terrified if I didn’t walk you back home.” Annabeth countered. “Remember the time it was storming out and you had to sleep on my bedroom floor? Your mother practically had a heart attack when you didn’t come home. But you refused to walk out in the rain.” She stifled a laugh as he pouted at her. Those puppy dog eyes had barely worked when they were children, let alone now as adults. 

“To be fair, there was thunder and lightning.” He argued. Annabeth opened her mouth to defend her side, and he lifted his hands up in surrender. “No need to try and explain how improbable getting hit by lightning is. I know. I didn’t come in to bicker about our childhood, though. I wanted to congratulate you. You sang beautifully.” His eyes were full of so much genuine pride that Annabeth had to break away from his gaze. 

“Thank you.” She managed with a pink flush on her cheeks. Hopefully Percy would assume it was the makeup. Annabeth felt a need to get the attention off of her performance. Determined, she brought back up the past. “Do you remember what my favorite thing during our childhood was?” 

Percy raised a dark eyebrow in question. She leaned in closer and kept her voice low, at almost a whisper. “My favorite thing, she would say, was when I sleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head.” He nodded, as if remembering. 

“Ah, how could I forget! When the Angel of Music sings songs to my Wise Girl.” He responded. 

“My mother promised when she went to heaven, she would send the Angel of Music to me. Well, my mother is dead, Percy. And I have been visited by the Angel.” She whispered, almost reverently. 

“Clearly you have! And now, I will take you to dinner to celebrate your success.” Percy stood. A wave of anxiety rushed over Annabeth. 

“The Angel of Music is very strict. I must stay here and practice.” She stated as she stood. Percy was already making his way toward the door of the dressing room, pushing aside a few bouquets of flowers that were in his way. He turned back toward her. 

“I’m sure you can have an evening to yourself. I’ll get the carriage, it’ll only be a few minutes. And I won’t keep you out too late, if you’re worried about your practice time.” He told her, opening the door to go out. “Now. You should get changed and put on a coat.” 

“Percy, wait-” 

“I’ll be right back.” Percy gave her a small wave and was out the door. She watched as the door shut behind him and then twirled a curl around her finger. Her enthusiasm from earlier wore off. But, she supposed one night away from the Angel wouldn’t hurt her.

Annabeth padded to the corner of the room with her regular clothes in it, looking for her coat and shoes so she could return to the dormitories to get fully ready. As she tossed aside her unused ballet leotard, she heard the turn of the key in the door. Eyebrows furrowed, she walked toward the door. As she went to touch the handle, a voice came from behind her. 

“Arrogant boy, this slave of fashion, savoring your glory!” The candles in the room had gone out in the time she went to the door, leaving her in the dark room with the voice of the Angel. The currently-angry Angel. She bit her lip and turned from her place at the door. “Ignorant fool! This young suitor, partaking in my triumph!” The Angel continued. 

Annabeth gathered her courage and raised her head. “My Angel, I was weak, forgive me. Stay by my side, guide me… This will not happen again, I promise. Come in, please, I’m listening and waiting for you.” She looked around the room and heard a soft chuckle, something that sent a chill down her spine. 

“You shall know me, then, Child. Look in the mirror, I’m there beside you.” Annabeth tentatively approached the mirror, and she soon saw a face in the reflection. She turned to her left, where the man with the mask should be, and found him not there. But could he be in the mirror? She reached out to touch her reflection, only to have the mirror swing away from her and reveal the man in the mask. 

“Angel of Music?” She questioned, her voice small. “Grant me your glory, dear Angel. Guide and guardian, hide no longer! Teach me…” She continued. The Angel took her hand in his own gloved one. 

“I am your Angel of Music. Come with me, my Angel…” The man guided her down a tunnel that Annabeth had no idea was there in the first place. She saw the whole hallway lit by candlelight, but was too mesmerized by the Angel, this Phantom, to take note of much else going on. 

Outside of her dressing room, Percy had returned to take Annabeth to dinner. Upon hearing an eerie male voice inside of her room, Percy went to open the door. He assumed the worst after finding it locked. “Who’s in there? Annabeth? Annabeth!” He yelled in an attempt to get her attention. 

Annabeth remained focused on the Angel as she descended into the depths of the Opera House, hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing is going to be a little weird for a minute since I’ve got finals! I know this one is late, most likely, partially because I’ve been studying for Calculus and decided not to do anything over Thanksgiving break. Christmas break should have at least one new chapter, I’m hoping. If not, thank you for letting me rest!


	6. The Phantom of the Opera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Down into the depths we go. We wish both our heroine, hero, and anti-hero luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to Debussy while writing and I forgot how much he makes me feel. Also! This is me kind of riffing on the Phantom in general while incorporating Luke more into the character. Apparently the Phantom’s backstory has been rather wildly varied since his creation. Poor guy. Big thanks to you guys for letting me have a break over the holidays, I hope everyone had a relaxing end to their year.

Nightgown flowing gracefully behind her, Annabeth followed the masked Angel down a corridor she’d never noticed before. Her eyes fixed on his face for just a moment as she trailed behind him, unsure of their path. Curiously, things seemed to bend toward him, the candleholders bending forward and seeming to light upon his will. Or maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her? It had been a long day after all. Speaking of, what happened last? She could have sworn she heard Percy. 

Who was he to her now? As interested as Percy seemed in her, the Angel had said he was using her. But her Percy? Never would she think of him like that, nor he, her. He showed up because he missed her. And because of something else? Obligation, possibly. But he brought flowers and wanted to take her to dinner. 

She walked side by side with the Angel of Music, these thoughts coming close to overwhelming her. They pulled her from the present. A piece of her wished that she could go back for those green eyes. She turned her head, her blonde curls whipping around with her. The Angel stopped walking and turned her chin back to face him. Her eyes scanned his face, the mask, and then met piercing blue eyes. Blue eyes that flashed gold, just for a moment. Surely the light was playing tricks on her vision. Golden eyes were things of fantasy.

“There’s no need to worry, dear Annabeth. I’ll take care of you, like I always have.” His words, although comforting in nature, caused a chill to run down her spine. Always? She knew the Angel was with her very young, but in her mind, this man… he couldn’t have been with her that long. She thought through the timeline as he walked her down the stone staircase 

The Angel came to her when her mother died. Seven years old. Soon after she began ballet, the first encounters with the Angel occured. She and Thalia were put to work in the costume shop in Annabeth’s first year, patching gowns and throwing out old pointe shoes. Annabeth remembered Thalia left at one point to get them more fabric. In her absence, she heard the voice. This man’s voice? But it was so late at night and seemed so out of the ordinary, that she assumed she’d drifted off to sleep. 

She met the Phantom in her dreams. Could this be a dream? She traced her free hand along the wall in the brand new corridor. Damp. Solid. Definitely there. She pinched the skin on her outstretched arm. Ouch, awake. And was that flowing water she could hear? Everything felt off and hazy. Apparently real, nonetheless. 

He turned to her once more to help her get into a boat. Since when did the Opera House have water underneath it? She sat and he climbed in infront of her, picking up the paddle that rested against the edge. He began to paddle them away from the pathway where the boat had been docked. Annabeth looked over him once more, now able to observe him without a chance of being caught, his attention elsewhere. 

He was taller than her, not necessarily a feat, but surprising considering her rather long legs. His hair, something she hadn’t noticed before, was a bright blonde, almost like her own. It appeared to be tinged with grey in one area. An unnatural grey, unlike the grey on Chiron or of the stagehands. The Phantom seemed young, still. Annabeth wondered where that stress came from to cause such grey. 

She turned her attention downward to toy with the fabric of her nightgown. She needed something to do with her nervous, shaky hands. There were so many questions Annabeth had for him. Tempted, she opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off by his own voice breaking the silence hanging in the air between them. 

“I’ve been here almost all my life.” 

His words dissipated as soon as they were spoken, overcome once again by the eerie silence of the cavern. Annabeth wanted to cling onto every one, but instead, she sat back and waited, not wanting to prod him further. The past could be fragile; her life was evidence of that. 

The rhythm of the rowing stayed consistent. He sighed before he steeled himself to continue speaking about his clearly disturbing past. 

“My father was horrified by me. When I was born, I mean. Because of, well...” He motioned vaguely to his mask. A deformity would cause lifelong pain for him? Another pause. “My mother wanted to keep me and raise me as her own, despite his feelings, but she gave me up upon my father’s urging. Left me on a train heading toward France when I was a kid. Away from her and my father in Greece.” A flash of anger rushed over her for his sake. There clearly was resentment lying within him because of this, and she felt protective over his past self. “I tried working odd jobs when I could as a child, but truly there wasn’t much I could do. And then… Kronos found me.” 

Kronos. An odd name, but surely this Kronos was good to him at some point? Annabeth’s heart already felt immensely for this man, this Phantom in the dark under the opera house. He deserved better than this. Deserved to feel wanted, desired. But the unfortunate and tragic truth clearly remained; here he sat in front of her, alone. 

“Kronos took me in. Chose me. He claimed I was- am, brave enough to put into action this new plan. A new plan... “ He trailed off, seemingly lost in thought. The current around them flowed, and up ahead Annabeth could see a grate of iron lifting from within the dark water. She’d never been down so far in the depths of the opera house. She’d grown within its walls and yet had no clue about this secret hideaway. Although, that most likely was the way the Phantom wanted it. 

They passed under the grate soon after it raised, revealing a room filled with candles, a bed, an organ. Not simply a room, then, his room. The realization that he lived here made her heart ache all the more. More questions sprung onto her tongue but she held back. Her thirst for knowledge would lead her down a path that she didn’t believe she was ready for. 

He turned to look at her and her heart leapt into her throat. As chaotic as her life had been thus far, she felt unprepared for whatever her Angel led her to. Tentatively, she met his gaze before he stepped out onto the stone and offered her his hand.


End file.
